


a halo of concrete and golden light, of old days and new beginnings

by TheMocha



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post Entity, Angst, F/F, Fluff, PTSD, Post-Entity AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 23:36:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17876924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMocha/pseuds/TheMocha
Summary: two girls let themselves live





	a halo of concrete and golden light, of old days and new beginnings

The building was abandoned, old and gutted. Sheets and wires sprawled across the floor, and a single rocking chair sat in the corner, creaking in time with the wind. The main road, only two streets away, echoed off the pillars gently, creating an undertone of white noise. This peace was only interrupted when the half eaten door that barred the entry to the complex shifted and groaned with human force, disturbing debris and rotting wood. Golden patches swayed in the darkness. One figure winced, the other letting out a laugh muffled by her sleeve.

There was really no reason for the two girls, their faces marked with light, to be creeping around in the dark like this, mindful of making sounds and sudden movements. Call it a force of habit. The taller one, clad in the odd combination of a tank top and a leather jacket, gestured for the smaller one to come close.

“Hey, d’ya think you could make it?” The jump in question was an escape hatch affixed to the sealing, the lid propped open by several pipes, a testament to those that had been before. The smaller one, a stout girl with the name of Claudette, nodded, sizing up the challenge with eager eyes. The other girl’s smile grew, though tinged with a hint of cautiousness. “Remember what I said earlier--” Claudette nudged the other, Nea, softly, halfmoon highlighting her teasing grin. “I know, alright? It’s not like I’m going to die from missing this.” She missed a beat, turning to Nea once again. “I won’t actually, right?”

Nea let out a short bark of a laugh, clapping Claudette on the back. “You worry too much Claudy. I thought I had almost lost you in the sea of sass!” Her loud, carefree voice ran through the building, making its rounds around their ears. They both winced on instinct, bodies tensing up. A quiet breath. Then another. _It’s okay, nothing can hurt us now._ Claudette’s eyes squeezed shut, a single memory flashing through her mind. Nea’s gloved hand came to rest on her shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

Her eyes carried an undertone of guilt, and Claudette gladly let herself rest in her arms. They were still broken, still so distant from the people of today. Maybe they were wrong to come out, to try something away from the safety of the others. Nea spoke. “You know… we could go back.” She looked away, toward the swaying door. Claudette looked up at her, the moonlight glancing off her onyx locks. Embers swam in her eyes, a pale imitation of the gold that coated her scarred cheeks and trailed down her neck.

“No.” She spoke, and her voice was hoarse. “I want- I need to see this. With you. Please.” Nea’s breath was simply stolen from her in that instant, taken by how far Claudette had come since they first met. No longer was she the girl who timidly patched up their wounds, offered kind words and a helping hand, who did her best to calm Nea’s righteous anger when she first arrived in The Nightmare.

That girl, while still kind, loving and empathetic, had changed. The Nightmare had taken them to an Anvil, warped them into harder (and brittle, oh so brittle) versions of themselves. It had dragged them through fire, spat poison in their eyes, let them fester and rot. Sure, they had adapted their styles, running just that bit faster, adjusting that hiding position to be that much more efficient, coming to terms with each others quirks and flaws, but they had lost bits and pieces of themselves. (The injuries weren’t permanent. The markings were.) It was hard to feel human when looking at a fire drove you to your knees.

Nea nodded, the faintest of blushes dusting her face. She forced herself to keep looking up despite the overwhelming urge to have a staring battle with the cracked concrete below. “Ah- okay.” She waved her hand toward the hatch. “You should go first, I’ll push you up.”

With a little scuffling, Claudette was unsteadily perched on Nea’s hands, dust and weathered concrete bouncing off the front of her glasses. The hinges creaked in protest against her hands before giving way with a loud squeal. Cool air snaked it’s way into the still atmosphere, disturbing the garbage that littered the floor. Another lift, and Claudette was hefted up to the roof, hanging precariously from her arms. “You all good up there?” Nea called, watching as her legs churned the air. “J- augh. Just fine.” She tucked an elbow underneath her deadweight.“I just need to- there!” Hoisting herself up with no small amount of effort, Claudette simply couldn’t help the proud little smile that spread contagiously across her face.

Nea crouched, tensing her muscles in preparation. With one decisive leap, she cleanly grabbed onto the sides of the hole, hauling her body up to Claudette’s. She giggled behind her hand, dreadlocks messy and draped across her face, the barest signs of sweat glistening on her forehead. Nea thought she looked beautiful.

The low horizon spread out ahead of them. By no means beautiful or breathtaking, nothing that you would proudly take a picture of and post to some online forum. A hazy coating of smog choked blinking lights from the inner city, and the roar of motors had grown louder out in the open. Despite that, the half moon shone brightly, dipping everything in a silver sheen. The building they were on wasn’t high by Nea’s standards, only two floors off the ground. To Claudette, however, the world was at her feet, faint lights making ringlets around her head. She walked, trancelike, to the lip of the roof. An overturned couch sat peacefully, undisturbed by the various visitors. Nea walked up to the other girl, and took her hand quietly.

“Think you should stand up there. Right on the edge.” She squeezed. It was a reassuring action, feeling the callouses and sharp depressions that wrapped around her palm.

“...But, I-” Nea slipped her hand out of Claudette’s grasp, and carefully placed her hands around her waist.

“I’ve got you. Just keep breathing, alright?” Claudette once again nodded, a vaguely robotic movement, bracing her hands against Nea’s. Her fingers had a slight shake to them, and occasionally tensed all together. She kept breathing though. Claudette looked up, caught in a dream, and spread her arms open wide as if to catch the stars. Nea was thrown back to the days before, where underage drinking and friends went hand in hand. While chaos ruled, these little moments, pockets of tranquility, were often forgotten among the haze of alcohol and cheap drugs. (They were the moments she had missed most.)

Claudette took in a deep breath, and she laughed, screamed and sang. She used her lungs and throat, and the streets beyond rattled with her joy. There was no guilty silence, no tears pricked in one’s eyes, and certainly no regrets.

They were safe, they were alone.

They were broken, sure, but still breathing. Scarred and yet healing.

And maybe ( _just maybe_ ) that wasn’t the worst thing after all.


End file.
